Celebrations
by Jamielordofgingers
Summary: A series of mostly unrelated one-shots for various holidays, featuring the Dai-Gurren crew. Set at varying points in the timeline.


Celebrations: A Gurren Lagann Fanfic

AN: I'm probably not going to do many of these, but I've got at least two lined up, a second new year's one, and maybe a father's day one.

* * *

Chapter One: New Year's Eve – Part One

As a race primarily dedicated to war and extermination, the beastmen were not ones for idle celebration or pointless debauchery. This is not to say that they were a culture without recreation, as evidenced by the thousands of pin-point windows lighting up all of Teppelin from across the room Viral was guarding. It was the New Year after all, the end of the year being the sole day of holiday that beastmen got. A day and night for drinking too much, eating too much, sleeping around, and damn the consequences. Viral gave a sigh as he watched his charge toddle about the overly decorated room he was stationed in for the evening. To be honest, said room was currently making the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Thick drapes guarded the heavily closed window which exposed the city view and, with the exception of the bed covers and curtains on the four-poster bed, seemed to be the only non-lace fabrics in the room, all of them darkly coloured in deep blues and purple. In the dark, it was rather choking, as if the room was constricting around him. And then there were the dolls.

On every shelf on every wall they sat, blankly starring with cold, unblinking sight. Porcelain and plush, ranging from little ones attached to chains, to a deflated yellow mouse as big as he was slumped over in the corner, lightning bolt tail coming away at the base. If he wasn't assigned with looking after Princess Nia, he'd be at home, watching the fireworks. He could see them from here of course, but wasn't exactly the same. Damn Thymilph, passing this off onto him. It was for reasons like this that he normally worked during the New Year. The bastard had probably skipped his duty to engage in his yearly drinking contest with Adiane. Two barrels of Guame's famous brew, XXXXXXX strength. First one to vomit, fall unconscious or die lost. Not that protecting the princess wasn't an honour, and watching her go about her business all day had been awfully cute. Well, it would have been cuter if the palace staff hadn't retreated into the wine cellar, forcing him to assist her with cleaning, dressing and schooling. And the less said about the food situation the better. The toast from breakfast was still repeating on him. Was this what it was like to look after a cub? Making sure they didn't kill themselves through harmless everyday activities? How did one even manage to burn cereal?

"Mr Viral!"

The princess' voice cut into his reminiscing, looking up at him with those big, flowery eyes.

"Yes, your highness?"

"I'd like to go out and see the fireworks. Will you accompany me?"

"I'm sorry your highness, but the orders I've been given say that you are to stay in here for the evening. Besides, the city isn't very pleasant this time of year."

There, nice and to the point, that should do it. As a princess, she would understand the importance of… oh god, that sad little pout. He could feel his heart clenching at the sight. Or maybe it was in protest of staying up this long. The pills he'd been given by Thymilph should have kept him in good condition for the evening, without needing the healing sleep normally required for beastmen.

"Please Mr Viral? It's been so lovely having you here all day and…"

"And?"

"Father never lets me leave the palace. There's a balcony just down the corridor, we'd only be out for just a little while. I want to see how happy everyone is, and the fireworks are so pretty."

Was this girl aware of the power she held? That was a face he'd walk into hell for, if only she'd ask. It was an effect exaggerated by the darling piece of sleepwear she was clad in, and that little finger placed just so at the corner of her mouth. But orders were orders, and if they were seen…

A red flower blossomed in the pitch black air of the dying year as the clock by that damn mouse showed its lifespan running down, catching the eye of royal and soldier. A look passed between them, followed by a board grin from the beastman.

"What the hel… heck. Get your coat and slippers princess, it'll be nippy out."

A quick check of the corridor showed the patrols had vacated the premises, and so they darted through the halls, past the original viewing platform, and out to the main balcony. They'd never see anything from there anyway. They made it with a couple of minutes to spare, which gave Viral time to obtain a chair for her, dusting it off. Nia looked at it for a second, shaking her head and pulling it as close to the stone barricade as possible, beckoning the soldier over. When he did as told, she pushed him into it, sitting on his leg before his stunned mind could catch up to events, and the fact he'd been shoved by a fourteen-year-old with the constitution of a stick figure.

"Princess, I can't!"

His protests were cut off by a soft shake of her head, that great mane of hair flying to and thro wildly.

"You've been on your feet all day Mr Viral. I insist."

"But if we're attacked…" He protested, weaker than he'd meant to. Her response was a smile.

"We're in the palace. Who would try to harm us?"

Any further argument was cancelled by way of thousands of voices counting down, and so Viral relented, the princess adjusting her seating in a manner that would not obstruct his view, but left her in his lap. This was… nice. The weight of another on his person, trusting him with so much, despite having only known each other for a day. A rare softness in contrast to his harsh military surroundings. Without him realising, his hand had come to rest on her waist, supporting the princess as she Ooh'd and Aah'd over the display, mesmerised by the light show all around her. A little too mesmerised, as she promptly stood up to get a better look, pulled down the hood of her heavy coat, leaned on the icy balcony and…

Viral pulled her back over, heavy claws digging into the back of the coat and back onto him, the motion of which sent the chair toppling backwards, beastman and human lying on the cold stone, breathing heavily at the near death of the princess-regent.

"I think it's time to go back inside."

And so they did, Nia slipping into the dollhouse once more, leaving Viral at the door.

"I'll be outside should you need me."

"Of course. Thank you for taking me out."

With a little nightgown assisted curtsey; she was back in her room. For all of two seconds, before popping her head out the door.

"Happy New Year, Mr Viral."

A smile crept over his face, the beastman hoping she didn't mind the fangs too much.

"Happy New Year, Princess Nia."

* * *

The next morning, he was relieved by the new guard, and made his way to the barracks for breakfast that could be recognised as such. No sooner then he'd made his way into a full plate of various things soaked in grease; he was joined by general Thymilph, the great ape shaking the bench as he sat.

"Good morning general."

"Ugh."

"How'd the contest go?"

The general looked like he'd fought a pack of bull beastmen, armour barely holding on and eyes rimmed with dark circles. When he spoke, his voice was cracked and broken.

"Lost this year. Makes it 169 – 208 to her. My third consecutive loss."

"Ah. Better luck next year, I suppose."

He tactfully ignored the smell of Adiane's perfume on the gorilla, as his boss picked up the morning paper. They ate in silence for a while before Thymilph broke it through a mouthful of watermelon.

"So… what's this I hear about you hanging Princess Nia off the grand balcony?"

Viral choked on his bacon as the front page of the newspaper was turned to him, showing what appeared to be just that.

"To be fair, you picked the right time of year for it. Even his majesty's probably still shitfaced. It'll be forgotten by lunch."

Viral just cupped his face in his hands and groaned as his boss clapped a board hand on his shoulder.

"Happy New Year, Viral."

Viral's response was to simply headbutt the table.


End file.
